How to own the place

I looked up from the page, the words had started to get hazy and the lines were merging out of focus, I needed a quick break. I dragged my jacket sleeve across my damp face patting my cheeks and rubbing my nose. I’ve cried in that cafe numerous times before. My favourite seat is a window seat, tucked into the corner, it’s cramped and the view is covered by scaffolding but it’s mine. Plus you can get away with a few tears and not be bothered. I wish I’d written down how I found out about this book but I…

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